


Shame means you’re guilty

by TheHuskyDragon



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Choking, M/M, Mild Necrophilia, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Temporary Character Death, cliff just wants his bb but he uses unconventional means, cliffs umbilical cords, how can I NOT write a fic with Higgs where he doesn’t puke!?, i am so tired just watch the tags it gets funky, look.............. it’s fine, please don’t use tar as lube, post repatriation vomit, tar as lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuskyDragon/pseuds/TheHuskyDragon
Summary: Higgs finds himself in an odd beach.
Relationships: Higgs Monaghan/Clifford Unger
Comments: 1
Kudos: 69





	Shame means you’re guilty

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all I am SO TIRED I didn’t even edit this I just finished typing and then copy pasted it here. I swear I’ll edit/self beta when i get the chance h
> 
> Title from a Richard Siken poem because fuck titles! Be careful as there IS literal death (albeit temporary and “sexy”). Dubcon warning as there is no consent explicitly stated, but both are willing parties!
> 
> This takes place somewhere in game, and I also altered canon a teeny bit to allow repatriation on the beach. Look, the plot is as poorly convoluted as it seems. 
> 
> Like I said, this is the True Raw Form of my fics where I don’t go insane w italics OR!! Even read over it!! I will tho so........ mm enjoy. I may tag this as “dead dove do not eat” as it’s... iffy

Tar rises up around Higgs’ ankles, and before he knows it, he falls down flat on his face. 

He damn nearly drowns in the tar. The hell did it come from!? He can sense BTs all fucking around him, but can’t see a single one. 

The tar roils underneath him, currents generated from something not far behind him. 

Higgs tugs on his leg to get up, but realizes something thin and strong is bound around it. What… the fuck. 

He turns over, further covering himself in tar. Higgs is able to lift his leg up and sees what the problem is. There is… barbed wire tangled around his ankle, tied like a snare and locked with itself and the thick rubber of his boot. Ohh-kay. He’s seen weirder things. 

More wire wraps around his other ankle. Both lines pull. 

Higgs yells out, getting dragged through the tar. No matter how much he flails and grapples, he can’t get free or even slow down. Only when whatever chooses, is he finally laid at rest, a shadow cast over him. 

The good of his cape is draped over his face. Higgs growls and slams his fist into the thick liquid. “Who in the fuck—“

And when he turns around, does he see probably the second most beautiful man. 

He’s dressed fully like he’s fighting in a war, which he probably is. Beneath his helmet— which eventually burns away when he pulls up the binoculars— is a sharp jawline and an even sharper gaze. His mouth is posed in a permanent, deep frown. Lines of tar track down his face from his forehead. 

Higgs gasps. 

The man’s frown deepens, before turning to a smile. 

“Where,” the soldier says, very very slowly, “is my BB.”

Higgs whistles before giggling, a little manic. “Why don’t you tell me your name first, darlin’?”

The soldier’s jaw works, mouth opening in a grimace. 

Then suddenly he’s on top of Higgs, having burnt up and materialized over him. The soldier’s tar-soaked Boot pressing down on his chest, harder until Higgs’ arms give out and he’s plunged into the tar. 

It fills his everything— his mouth and nose and ears. In his eyes, under his fingernails and every layer of clothes he’s wearing. Pouring into every damn pore until all of his cells are drowning in it. 

It’s exhilarating. Higgs feels himself smile, laugh even though he can’t possibly have air in his lungs. It feels so much different than his own tar. Higgs’ own is sharp, prickly with how much chiralium is in it. This man… his tar is smooth, viscous, sticking to all of Higgs like a web. He can’t taste any chiralium in this tar, which is the weirdest. Where is it then? Fuck. 

Higgs can feel his cock harden. 

Like a fucking dog taught a trick, it’s not even his tar. Not that convincing this man to helping him will be too terribly difficult. He could always say he could find his BB… not that he knew where it was. 

He’s lifted up by the collar of his shawl by the man. They’re in some run-down building, in a shallow puddle of tar. Higgs opens his mouth to speak, but chokes and rolls over. He didn’t even die, but his stomach feels terribly empty a moment later, and the puddle is just a little bit more full. Thick rivers track out of his mouth, still so viscous despite the stomach acid and tar mixed with it. Higgs coughs and hacks, just trying to breathe. 

With the first full breath, Higgs cackles. Cackles so hard his shoulders shake and the quipu hanging from his neck swings. 

He rolls back over onto his back and the man appears on him, knelt over his stomach.

“That all you got, Pops?” Higgs challenges. He crosses his arms and goes to kick up his legs, but finds them still bound. He smiles beneath his hood but keeps his eyes hidden. A black tear drips down his face. 

“Where is my BB.”

“Don’t have a clue.” Higgs says. He trails his hand up the man’s chest, past the many pockets, the loaded pistol. There are dog tags around his throat. 

Clifford Unger

The tag is almost ruined with the tar, rusted over from the chiralium Cliff generates. 

“Well, Cliff,” Higgs drawls, “maybe there’s a chance… we can-“ Higgs lays his hands on Cliff’s hips and thrusts his own up. His half-hard cock rubs against the thick cloth of Cliff’s pants. “-help each other, hm?”

His smile widens because Cliff-boy here looks pissed. Higgs sees his eyebrows lower, the corner of his mouth part to show white teeth. 

Perfect. 

“Help each other.” Cliff repeats. The cigarette in his mouth— when’d that get there?— burns at the end, but no matter how many puffs he takes, it doesn’t burn down to the filter. 

“Yeah,” Higgs says. Draws the word out in a breath. “You help me,” he rolls his hips again, “I… I will help you.” He looks up at Cliff. 

Finally, finally, his mouth twitches just a bit, a tiny uptake in the corner. Cliff huffs, a thick plume of smoke wafting out. 

“If you insist.”

Yes! Fuck yes! the taller man cries to himself. On the outside, he giggles more. A mantra of he’s yes yes! repeats in his head along with a slurry of other words. Oh, how he wishes he had more chiralium in him. He’s been running low on juice; he’ll probably have to kill this handsome hunk of a man standing so tall above him…

“You will do no such thing.”

Higgs balks, “w-What?”

Suddenly tendrils— no, four uniform umbilical cords slither out from under his clothes. They’re burning at the end, dripping with molten tar. His arms are bound by one each, until they’re pulled back and wound together. A third could around his neck, tighter and more, until he can’t move his neck, stuck staring at the ceiling that threatens to fall at any moment. 

An explosion rings in the background. A tank rolls along. How long had there been gunshots?

Ohh… the girl didn’t tell him about this. Is she hiding things now? No… this… this Cliff is a whole other can of worms. He has nothing to do with the end. 

The fourth cord hooks onto Her quipu. Higgs thrashes his entire body. 

“NO!”

Like a good man, Cliff releases the necklace. Higgs goes limp obediently. 

The cord trails against his face. It feels like he’s being branded. Higgs’ breath hitches as the hood falls free. 

He—can’t fucking put it up, he’s not at all able to. He closes his eyes as if that’d make the other man go blind. 

He almost misses it, the near-silent noise of a knife being unsheathed. Fuck, shit, is Cliff going to kill him? No that wouldn’t help him at all; Higgs wasn’t even that annoying. Or does he just kill anyone in his way?

Higgs’ short-lived panic is cut even shorter as Cliff grabs the crotch of his pants and cuts a messy hole into it. Oh. 

Oh!

Alright. 

“So you’ve taken my offer?” Higgs taunts, still completely bound. 

“Something like that,” the man grumbles absentmindedly. Higgs is already hard and leaking in black and gold underwear, and those are cut too. His own BB pod is obstructing what little view he has, what with his neck held so familiarly. 

Why would it be familiar? Daddy never had a visible umbilical cord like this. 

He hears the all-too familiar sound of a zipper being undone. It makes him relax, as much as he can like this. The fourth umbilical cord slobbers tar messily all over his asshole, under his balls and on his thighs where they’re visible. 

The soldier’s fingers are stained with tar themselves, and that just seems to help their way in. Cliff inserts two right off the bat, not caring how Higgs cries out and jolts. 

Fuck, Higgs thinks, bastard…

He’s hastily prepared, like Cliff is impatient himself. The fuzzy-yet-sharp pain makes Higgs dizzy in all the best ways. The viscous tar really helps, as soon there’s a third finger in him. He sighs and relaxes into it. 

“This the only time you’re quiet? Getting fucked by a stranger?”

Higgs whistles again, but it comes out more like a breathy trill. “You want me to be loud? I can do that.”

“No thanks,” he says as he removes his fingers. They come back re-slickened.

“Bummer. I’ve heard others quite like it.”

“I’m not others.”

Higgs hums low in his throat. “No… you’re special, ain’t you? This ain’t no or—ordinary beach. You’re one angry fella to make something like this.”

Cliff huffs and really removes his fingers. He dips his hand into the tar and uses that to lube himself up, his wonderfully thick cock soon covered with the liquid. He lines himself up and presses in. 

The sensation draws an open-mouthed moan from Higgs. He was big, fantastically so. The sudden stretch is still painful, a deep ache setting in his hips that mixes with his arousal. He’s still hard and leaking. 

“Fuck yes. You feel so good,”

Cliff grunts his agreement, stilling once their hips connect. His zipper presses painfully to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. 

“Am I too much for you?” Higgs jokes. 

He opens his mouth to continue, but the cord cooled around his neck snares tighter, completely cutting off his air. He can feel every tiny link to the chain of the quipu press into his neck, imprinting on his skin. It feels like his esophagus is being crushed, it hurts, doing more than cutting off blood flow to his brain. The whole length of the umbilical cord around him burns bright hot, searing into his skin, feeling like a hot knife in butter. 

With a crack, and a long-gurgle, Higgs’ body goes limp. When the cord loosens, his head falls back. Under heavy bruising and near-burnt skin, it’s obvious where his esophagus has broken. 

Cliff closes his eyes and lifts his head up. He lets out a soft groan as he thrusts into the body. It’s a shame, he wanted to draw this out a little more. 

When he opens them, Cliff looks along the long body of the man beneath him. He’s covered nearly from head to toe, as one has to be as of recently. Multiple layers, to hide the scrawny figure under them. White, pale skin, enamored with scares of all shapes, ages, colors…

Looking further, Cliff sees a spatter of cum on his covered stomach. He came from dying. That had to be some… odd bodily response...

What’s surprising, is that a good few moments later, Higgs’ body goes light and the bruising and broken esophagus just… fade away. The bruising shrinks to nothing and the break… fixes itself. Higgs’ eyes flutter open, roll back forward, before shock overcomes them. 

Higgs’ cheeks bulge and black bile— tar, pours from his mouth. It’s thinner than Cliff’s own, but Higgs on his back doesn’t help. Cliff hums in amusement, a cloud of smoke trailing from his nostrils. 

“Well… thought I was too much for you.”

Higgs coughs raggedly, black spittle flying from his mouth. When he smiles, the dips between his teeth are filled with tar, his gums stained. “Ain’t nobody too much for me.”

The last word is cut at the end when suddenly, Cliff thrusts in, rough and fast, just like Higgs wants. Cliff keeps up the rhythm, fucking into him hard, Higgs’ body jostled by the force. Cliff looks real angry now, teeth bared in a snarled and body tense under his uniform. The umbilical cords tighten and loosen, almost randomly. Higgs himself is nearly a wreck, crying out and helpless to stop the soldier— like he’d want to— and he’s forced to ride these events along. 

But that’s how it usually goes, right? Higgs gets himself in a mess and now he’s stuck in it. His cock is hard again, he must’ve cum before repatriating; there really is nothing that feels similar. A good stress reliever. The cord is still somewhat tight around his neck, and more often than not, it cuts off precious oxygen. It’s not as restricting as before, but it leaves Higgs dizzy and breathless. 

Higgs chokes in and out gasps of air. The starvation makes the pleasure more intense, leaves his eyes to roll back. Cliff is so big in him, sliding almost too easily with the tar, despite how tight Higgs is, how hard he clenches around him in pleasure. He thrusts so deep… so hard, it makes his teeth chatter together. 

His legs, still ensnared by the barbed wire, are yanked back, past Cliff to further drift him into his cock. The tar making obscene noises when their hips collide. Higgs’ legs shake, his voice uneven in his moaning. 

Cliff’s hands on his hips tighten, bruising the skin under multiple layers. Higgs shrieks when Cliff’s cock thrusts right up against something deep in him. Something that makes pleasure ricochet through his body. Another thrust, and another overwhelming wave of euphoria. 

Higgs’ knees knock into Cliff’s hips, trying to keep him deep inside, pressed right there, where it lights him up like fire. Fell as hot as the cords burn his skin. With what little breath he has, he wheezes out a laugh. 

He nearly chokes on his tongue as Cliff’s’ warm, calloused hand wraps around his cock. All too soon, but not soon enough, he begins pumping. He’s using tar as lube— has he done this before? To know it works as lube like this?— and Higgs can barely see it, but seeing the red of his cock, the white of his pre, the black of the tar it’s- it—

Higgs cums with a ragged cry. He clenches rhythmically around Cliff, rolls of pleasure engulfing him all over again when his hand doesn’t stop and the cord around his neck loosens. Sweet air floods into his lungs, shocking him like cold water pouring across his skin. He’s soundless as his eyes roll back. His back arches, his limbs still bound. 

Cliff’s own pace grows sloppy, uneven. Not long later, does Higgs feel him fill him up. Higgs sighs, always having loved the sensation. Cliff’s breath is ragged as he pulls out. Higgs notices how his hands shake just slightly when he puts himself away and zips himself up. 

“Now,” Cliff takes his clean hand and takes out the pistol at his chest. He releases the safety and points it at Higgs. “Where is my BB.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is Higgs-the-god. Hear me rant about how I want to personally feel Higgs’ insides and Squish Them. Leave a kudos and a comment if you want to
> 
> I am. Very sleepy. Good night


End file.
